Friendly Advice
by Orlissa92
Summary: Sometimes, to unravel a problem, we need a fresh pair of eyes. Sometimes we need a friend. Sometimes, we need both. Post-Watershed.


**A/N: I am a slow writer. This story was conceived a couple of days after Watershed, matured for weeks in my head, then I finally started writing it, but I got stuck, then I even lost the file, started again, struggled with it, finished it, then kept putting the editing away… So, yes. I am a slow writer. But I hope that you'll enjoy it regardless of my slowness :)  
Rating: T  
Word Count: 2009  
Disclaimer: [Insert witty text here that tells you I don't own Castle]**

Legs tucked under her, loose T-shirt stretched over her knees, escaped tendrils of hair hanging in front of her eyes, her Union Jack pillow tucked under her arm, Kate sits on her couch, twirling her cell phone in her hand, light catching the dark screen – the silent device almost mocking her.

It still feels surreal – what happened only hours ago in the park. How he stood before her, how he…

It's still surreal, still unbelievable, and she is still lost, lost in the labyrinth of her own emotions, in the nooks of her psyche.

She really needs a ball of yarn to help her find the way out of it.

Phone stilling in her hand she looks down at the blank screen, seeing the reflection of her own tired face and red rimmed eyes in it. Unable to gaze at it for too long, she pushes a button on the phone's side, calling the screen to life and glancing at the time. It's late, but not so late that it would be too improper to call. Letting out a sigh, she opens her contacts list, scrolls down until she finds the name she needs and presses _Call_ before she could change her mind.

The phone rings once, twice, three times and then –

"Becks!" Madison's voice on the other end of the line is bright and happy, like always. "We haven't talked in ages! What's up now? Slow night, wanna meet up?"

Her old friend's cheerful demeanor usually makes her smile, but not tonight.

"Hi, Maddie," she almost whispers into the microphone, her voice sounding broken, alien even to her. "No, actually, I just…" She exhales, pushes her hair away from her face with her free hand and stands up, her stiffed joints protesting. Walking, being in motion usually helps. "Do you remember when we were investigating Wolf's death, and we found the ring in the cake, I showed I to you and you asked–"

"If you had been offered one like that," Madison interrupts – Kate can almost see her nodding along her words –, impatient as ever. "Yep, I remember. Why?"

"I need your advice."

There's a beat of silence on the other end, and Kate can almost feel the air around Madison change.

"Well, then… shoot." She hears fabric rushing as Madison sits down. "I am all ears."

"Okay, so…" Kate starts, taking a few steps towards the other end of the room, internally composing the start of her speech. "Let's say you are dating this guy."

"What guy?"

"Sorry?" Kate asks back quickly, gently shaking her head, a tad bit startled by the question.

"What guy? If you want me to imagine this whole… thing you have going on, I need some pointers," Madison explains, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "So, is he hot?"

Despite of her afternoon spent in melancholy, laughter bubbles from Kate's lips. Months can go by without her even thinking about Maddie, then they talk for a minute or two, and suddenly she can't even imagine how she could have gone on this long without hearing her voice.

"Yes, he is. On his own way."

"And how long have we been dating?" Madison continues her questioning.

"About a year. But you've known each other longer." She won't go into the details, not now. She would just elaborate on their mistakes, their foolishness, their three-year-long dance. Not now. Maybe later, when she has this whole… thing behind her back.

"All right. And what about the sex?"

Kate suddenly stops in the middle of the room, breath catching in her chest.

"Madison!" she says, her voice rising, mostly in amused bewilderment.

"What? Sex is a very important aspect of every relationship. How could I properly imagine this hypothetical relationship I am in, if I have no idea of what I can expect from my hypothetical boyfriend in the bedroom department?"

With a loud huff Kate sits back on the couch.

"No complaints," she says, smirking to herself. _No complaints at all. _

"Care to elaborate?" She can hear the curiosity lurking behind Madison's words.

"The sex is great, okay? You click, fit together."

"So I don't have to fake with him?"

Have Kate been drinking something, she would have spat it out.

"No. No, never."

"And how big is–"

"Maddie, I am drawing a line here."

Kate hears careless giggling on the other end of the line.

"Al right, al right, so one year, a hot guy, great sex. What else? Do I love him?"

Kate closes her eyes, but only for a moment. It's so much easier to admit it now, even after the last few days, than it was only a couple of weeks ago.

"You sure do. You are sickeningly, embarrassingly in love with him."

"How embarrassingly?"

Kate sighs, closes her eyes, almost embarrassed of her answer.

"You find yourself imagining how your kids would look like and how charming he'll be when his hair starts graying more often than you'd like to admit." This actually makes Madison laugh, her three-year-old words ringing in Kate's ears: _'You wanna make little Castle babies.'_

"Oh, this is getting better and better! But I can't see where your need for my advice comes to the picture. So far everything sounds dandy to me." Her voice, on the surface, still sounds giddy and joyful, but Kate can hear the genuine concern hiding behind her words.

"I'll get there in a minute." She takes a deep breath, bracing herself for the hard part. "So, for the past year or so, everything was… pleasant. You fell into a routine. You became domestic: meals cooked together, mixed laundry, morning coffee served with a kiss. You might have wanted more, wanted to take a step forward, but decided that what you had was enough for the time being. You decided not to push the issue."

"Was it a mistake?"

"You think it was," she says, then after a beat she corrects herself: "You know it was.'

"So I made a mistake."

"Yes. Probably." She still has a problem with admitting it, although she knows she has to get over it. But knowing what you have to work on is a step to the right direction, isn't it? "But you didn't realize it until the fight."

"How big a fight?"

"Big one. The biggest you had so far." Stubborn tears leak from Kate's eyes as she gets to this part.

"And, I ask again, whose fault was it? His or mine?" It's so Maddie – always asking the worst and the best questions.

"Both of yours. There were mistrust, miscommunication, old wounds, secrets that shouldn't have been kept… It started with little things, piling on top of each other, and then the dominoes started falling before you even realized what was happening." The words are coming harder and harder as she paraphrases the happenings of the last few days, weeks.

"And we broke up?" Maddie's voice suddenly sounds very small.

"No," Kate sighs, collecting her thoughts, "That's it. You were expecting the break up, you thought it was inevitable, but then…" she chokes up a little, wiping the stubborn tears from her face with the heel of her hand. "You didn't talk for a full day – no texts, no nothing; you had never gone this long without speaking, at least not since you got together –, but then you decided to meet. And it started out bad, Maddie, so bad, and he was so solemn and sad, and it was horrible, and that spark in his eyes you love so much seemed to have died out, you hated seeing him like that, and then…" It's hard to speak. To pour it into words. She just wants… she is not sure what she wants right now. Human contact. Him. "And then, completely out of the blue, he got down on one knee in front of you, no fanfare, no big gestures, he just pulled out a ring and asked you to marry him."

There's a high pitched squeal on the other end of the line.

"He proposed to you – I mean, to me?" Maddie's voice is about as high as it was when that hot guy whose name Kate can't even remember asked her to the junior prom when they were freshmen.

"Yes, he did, and–"

"And what did I say? Becks, what did I say?"

Kate loudly exhales into the microphone.

"That's it – you didn't say a thing. You just sat there, slack-jawed, unable to… to utter a damned syllable, because really, one damned syllable was all you should have said, but you were incapable of doing that much. And then he… he must have gotten fed up with your silence, because he got up, told you to think about it, and… and he left. Just like that. But he looked so sad, Maddie. So broken."

"And? What has happened since?"

"And nothing. Nothing has happened. That's it. And that's why I need your advice. What would you do in a situation like this? Honestly, Maddie. No joking around."

Silence settles between them for a few seconds, and if it's not for Maddie's low, thoughtful humming on the other end, Kate'd think that the line has disconnected.

"Well, look here, girl," Maddie says at last. "You know I love you, so I am going to be brutally honest. Here's what I'd do: I'd get myself presentable – don't even dare to roll your eyes! I can imagine how you look right now: red rimmed eyes, tear soaked face, hair's a mess, worn, stretched out clothes. Don't even try to deny it – I know you. So I'd brush my face, put on some decent clothes – and by decent I mean something borderline indecent, that makes men drool –, go over to the guy's place, knock or let myself in, you didn't give enough details to know what's your protocol, go to him, and beg. Grovel, if you need. Whatever I have to do to earn his forgiveness or– or bring back the spark to his eyes, or whatever. The point is, if I love that guy so much, and you say I love him that much, I'd fight for him. And when the things between us are smoothed, I'd tell him to ask me again, and when he does, I'd say yes, in a heartbeat, without hesitation, do you hear me, Katherine Beckett?"

A shaky chuckle escapes Kate's lips. That's why she called Madison.

"Thank you, Maddie, really. You can't know how much you–"

"Who told you I have finished? I have not." Kate can almost see her straightening her back, ruffling her nonexistent feathers. "So… I'd say yes, wait until he slips the ring into my finger, jump into his neck, _kiss him senseless_, have hot, celebratory sex all night long, and then," she takes a short pause, for the dramatic effect, Kate can tell, "and then I'd meet my great friend, who gives such good advice, the next day for brunch, to show off my new, dazzling ring. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, Maddie, we do," Kate laughs into the phone.

"Alright. Well, then," Maddie takes a long breath on the other end, "off you go. Do your best."

"Thanks. For everything. Really – you don't even know how much you've helped."

"That's what friends are for." Kate can almost see her friend now – her soft smile, her gentle shrug.

"So, tomorrow?" she asks, straightening the cushions with her free hand.

"Tomorrow. At ten, Lexington and 57th?"

"Perfect. See you then."

"See you."

And then there's a soft click, and the line goes dead. With a careful hand, Kate places the phone on the coffee table. She shakes her head, smiling – good, old Maddie. Exactly what she needed.

But now she needs something else. Somebody else. Shaking herself a little she stands, popping her stiff joints, she pushes the hair away from her face, mentally listing the things she has to do. After all, she has to make herself presentable.

She has a mission.


End file.
